


Love. Cherish. HONOR.

by Greysgate



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Be Careful What You Wish For, F/M, anti-ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 17:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14753291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greysgate/pseuds/Greysgate
Summary: Sam finally gets what she has always wanted, and then what she has earned.





	Love. Cherish. HONOR.

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: Please note this fic should properly be listed as ANTI-SHIP, but since there isn't such a category, Sam/Jack will have to do because the story does qualify. It just doesn't have the happy ending Shippers expect in S/J fic. If you want a romantic S/J tale, THIS IS NOT IT.
> 
> If you’re a Shipper and you read it anyway, please don’t send me hate mail because I didn’t write this story for you. I’m not sure who I DID write it for, but it’s not for Shippers; hence, this notice at the beginning of the story with a great big honkin' spoiler to go along with it. I thought Sam got away with far too much in canon, and this was how I fixed that in my head (though I think she should have gone to prison after the RepliCarter incident. That was treason of the highest order).
> 
> You have been warned. 
> 
> And now, on with the story...

Sunday was supposed to be just like any other day, but in the lives of those involved with the SGC, ordinary days were rare gifts.  Brigadier General Jack O’Neill had enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, mowed his lawn, showered, and changed, and was sipping a last cup of coffee before heading in to the base for the day.  He worked seven days a week now, even on holidays, because the demands of his job, commanding the SGC, were always immediate and urgent. 

There were boring, mundane days mixed in, of course, but those were rare blessings.  Every time he sat down behind his desk, Jack found himself grateful for the patience, kindness, and compassion of his predecessor, who had taught him so much by example and done his best to prepare the man who would fill his shoes as head of Stargate Command.  He wrote Hammond often, got calls from him regularly, sometimes just to touch base, and others to pass along official information.  Jack still had a habit of calling him “General” when he answered the phone, and Hammond often made a joke of it, repeating the official address right back to him. 

So when Jack heard the knock on his front door that fateful Sunday morning and pulled it open to see Hammond’s somber face, Jack grinned and said, “General! Nice to see ya.” 

He noted a taxi pulling away from the curb, and wondered why Hammond hadn’t borrowed a car from the motor pool for his visit. 

George didn’t smile, just gave an acknowledging nod.  “Jack.  May I come in?” 

There was something grim about the older man’s expression and tone of voice that hit Jack like a dash of cold water in the face.  “Of course, George.  What’s up?”  He stepped aside, gesturing his guest into the foyer.  “I know you wouldn’t come all the way from the Pentagon just for a social call, not without notice, so it’s gotta be serious.”

 Hammond just sighed and kept quiet. 

Jack shut the door and led the way into the living room.  “Can I get you something?  Some coffee maybe?  I can brew some fresh; I’ve got the fancy stuff Daniel likes.” 

“Thanks, but I’m fine.” George sat on the sofa as Jack took his place in a chair across from him.  “This isn’t going to be easy for either of us, but I’d rather you heard it from me than through official channels.” 

Jack’s jaws clenched.  Okay, so this wasn’t good in a big way.  George hadn’t even taken the time for small talk, just cut right to the chase. 

“I know you’ve made a career of doing things your own way, and somehow it’s always managed to work for you.”  The older man’s hands were clenched into fists on his thighs.  His eyes glittered strangely, his voice unnaturally husky.  “Except this time, I’m afraid it won’t, and I can’t help you.  An official inquiry has been started, and it doesn’t look good.” 

Swallowing hard, Jack could sense the distant tolling of a symbolic bell.  “What’s this about, George?” 

“There was a valid reason for setting up the oversight committee, Jack.”  The General sighed again, defeat and grief in his eyes.  “CIA Agent Johnson was hand-picked to serve as liaison for the Executive Branch, reporting directly to the President.” 

Oh, God.  Not that.  Not his brief... _thing_...with Kerry Johnson. 

“It was perfectly innocent,” Jack challenged.  

“That doesn’t matter,” George shot back.  “Sometimes appearances are everything.  The woman you chose to… date…  was perhaps _the_ most inappropriate choice you could make.  You knew better, Jack.  Why would you do something like that? The SGC needs you.” 

He didn’t have an excuse, not really.  “I was tired of being lonely.  Kerry was nice.  We liked each other, and I figured, if we could just see if it might actually go anywhere, maybe she could be assigned somewhere else.  If it didn’t work out, no harm done.  She wasn’t one of the decision-makers, anyway.  I didn’t think it was that big a deal.” 

Hammond leaned forward.  “She was selected to be an impartial observer, to ensure that the SGC was operating in the best interests of our world, Jack.  If she’s spending personal time with you, she’s not going to be impartial.  Any report she offered would be tainted.” 

“Is that why I haven’t seen or heard from her lately?” 

“She recused herself from the position when the investigation started.  Things aren’t looking too good for her career at the moment.  There are even hints that she may have been working with The Trust, which makes her relationship with you all the more damaging to your career.” 

“Nothing much happened,” Jack told him honestly.  “There was an almost-dinner.  We were only together a couple of times.  That was it.” 

“Doesn’t matter, Jack,” Hammond said gently.  “You’ve been dancing around those same regs for years, and now, when it meant the most, you decided to step over the line for a near stranger.  I always thought, if you were going that route, it would be for someone you knew better.” 

Jack knew exactly whom he meant.  Jack cared about Samantha Carter far more than a commanding officer should, but he felt similarly strongly about Daniel and Teal’c.  They had bled and died together for seven-plus years.  They were as much a part of him as one of his hands or feet.  He had his own inner-Daniel voice that acted as counselor, an inner-Teal’c that threw out little unexpected bits of wisdom and acted as straight man to his internal stand-up routines.  

Carter – well, there was no Carter-voice in his subconscious; instead, he had fantasies he’d always struggled to keep buried, because they were impossible. 

She’d had an option for seven years and had never taken it.  If she’d wanted him enough, she could have transferred off SG-1 and joined another team.  All she’d had to do was get out from under his direct command, and they could’ve been all over each other.  His only option, on the other hand, had been to retire, and he’d thought what the program was doing was far more important than taking a chance on a woman who wanted him, but not enough to do what was right so they could both serve the same cause. 

Now that Jack was in command of the SGC, of course, that was no longer an option.  The only way they had a chance was for one of them to leave the SGC completely in order to satisfy the regs.  Carter could go upstairs to NORAD, over to Peterson, or to Area 51’s research facility, but Jack wasn’t ready to give up command of such a vital program.  He could do a lot of good in his current position, and Carter had made it plain that he wasn’t high up enough on her list of priorities to make any major sacrifices for him.  That wasn’t the sort of promise that a guy like Jack could hang his heart on, so he’d tucked the sexual fantasies away long ago. 

“Nothing happened with Carter,” Jack told his guest.  “She wasn’t interested enough.  I let it go.” 

“But there were rumors,” Hammond added sadly.  “Suspicions.  I ignored them, because I knew you were a man of honor.  You didn’t always make the best decisions, but you did always take responsibility for your mistakes.  If things had ever crossed the line with Carter, I knew I’d have had your resignation on my desk immediately afterward.” 

Jack nodded.  “Yes, sir.” 

“You have to know, though, that a lot of people thought there was something going on between you and her.  _Her_ behavior, not yours.” 

“I should’ve said something to her about it.  I didn’t know how to bring it up, or what to say if I did.” 

George dropped his gaze to the floor, clasping his hands together and leaning forward, elbows on knees.  “There is evidence enough against you with Agent Johnson, Jack, though nothing but innuendo and speculation regarding Lieutenant Colonel Carter.  I’ve seen what they have, read the reports, and I can tell how it’s going to turn out.  I know what they’re going to do to you, and there could be fallout.” 

He sighed and hung his head, looking at the floor rather than meet Jack’s eyes.  “What’s worst of all is an incident that was related to me during a recent visit to the Alpha Site.  I know Colonel Carter is a good officer, with the best of intentions, but her lapse of judgment during the events with her Replicator double was significant, Jack. She as much as gave critical technology to the enemy.  Everything worked out in the end, but that alone should have earned her a court martial.  If anyone else should ever discover how that issue was handled, it could be bad news for both of you.  In fact, relieving her of command of SG-1 and putting her into research could be a smart move on your part, before you make any other decisions.”  

As a lump formed in Jack’s throat, he sat back in his chair, maintaining perfect calm on the outside, holding his emotions under tight rein on the inside.  “Thank you for bringing this to me in person,” he said thickly, unable to meet his old friend’s eyes. 

“I owe you that,” George said, his voice gruff with pride.  “This whole world owes you a helluva lot more… but this is the best I could do.” He sighed again. 

Jack had never heard the man sigh so much. 

“I’ve been given permission to… to ask you to retire, and no further action will be taken.  Should you agree, I’ll be allowed to step back into the SGC on a temporary basis, until a new CO can be chosen to fill the spot.”  He stood up, took two steps closer and laid his hand on Jack’s shoulder.  “I’m sorry, Jack, but this time, I can’t fix the problem.” 

All Jack could do was nod, his throat completely closed now. 

George patted him on the shoulder.  “I’ll let myself out.” 

By the time Hammond made it to the door, Jack was on his feet, his heart and mind clear.  “How long do I have?” he asked, his voice strong and sure as he made his way across the room and up the two steps to the foyer. 

Hammond stuck his hands into his trouser pockets.  “The findings will be made public in three weeks.” 

“Then the President will have my retirement papers in two,” Jack assured him.  “And all of this will go away, right? Carter’s career won’t be hurt by it?” 

“Whatever happens to her career will be her responsibility, based on her actions from today forward.  I won’t be looking back into old missions, or bringing what I know about her to light.  Unfortunately, I can’t make the same guarantee for Agent Johnson.  Other people are already looking at her for a possible connection with the Trust.” 

Jack’s gaze was unflinching into those pale blue eyes.  “Thank you for doing what you can.  And for your friendship.” He held out his hand, gentleman to gentleman. 

Hammond shook it, and then pulled him into a brief, backslapping hug.  “You’re welcome, son.  I hate to see this happen.  We need good men like you.” 

“We knew it’d go down this way sooner or later,” Jack said with a shrug.  “There’ve been people out there looking for any excuse to get me outta there.  I’m just sorry I gave ‘em one.  Especially such a stupid one.” He cleared his throat softly, regrets filling him up.  “And yeah, I guess I knew I made some bad decisions there, but thought I could get away with it.  I have no one to blame but myself.” 

“What will you do?” George asked, genuinely concerned. 

“I don’t know.  Maybe drag out the ol’ telescope and start stargazing again.  Haven’t done that for a while.  Fish, maybe.  Sleep late.  Grow a beard.  Get a dog.  We’ll see.”  With a shrug, he pulled open his front door to let his guest leave.  “You gonna be in town long?” 

“Flying back to Washington in a couple hours.  I just came to see you.” 

“It’s good to see you again.  Why don’t we hang out at the airport, and we can catch up?  I’ve missed you.” 

“I’d like that,” said George with a small, sad smile.  “I’ve missed you, too.” 

Jack grabbed his keys, wallet, cell phone and base ID, locked up the house and walked with his old friend and mentor to his truck.  The specter of personal defeat loomed up in the distance, but for the moment, the sun was shining, the population of Earth remained free in blissful ignorance, and General O’Neill was still a man of honor.  He would end his career with a whimper rather than a bang, but he’d had a good run and accomplished a lot in his 30 years of service to Uncle Sam. 

Having only one regret wasn’t a bad way to go.  A lot of other folks weren’t that lucky.  

He climbed into the cab of his truck and, deciding to focus on small talk, asked George how his granddaughters were, even though he already knew the answer.  

* * *

 

 _Three days,_ Sam thought, pacing the length of her living room.  Nearly everything she owned was in boxes, stacked up all around her, preparing for the move into the new house – the one she would share with Pete as his wife.  _In three days, they would be married._ Once she took that step, there would be no going back. 

Only things were _different_ now. 

Two days ago, General O’Neill had retired.  It was sudden and unexpected, but apparently he’d been planning it for some time, because the day the announcement was made, General Hammond was standing at Jack’s side, ready to take the reins as interim commander.  The SGC machine was still running smoothly with an experienced leader at the helm, but everything had changed for Samantha Carter, because now there were no regulations to stand between her and Jack. 

_God, how she ached to call him that!_

She distractedly reached up to run a hand through her hair.  A fiery glint caught her eye, and her hand froze in mid-flight as she stared at the diamond engagement ring on her finger. 

She HAD Pete.  He was a sure thing, ready and waiting, and totally smitten with her.  The reality of Pete promised a lifetime of love and faithfulness, a family of their own, all the dreams she’d ever wanted, except one: he wasn’t Jack O’Neill. 

She loved Pete and knew she could be happy with him.  Jack, however, had promised her nothing but steady friendship and respect.  He was an unknown quantity with enormous potential, but she couldn’t be sure what he was willing to give her, now that nothing stood between them.  And without being more certain of what was at stake, how could she make an informed decision? 

In twenty minutes, she stood on his doorstep looking into his intense brown eyes, her heart in her mouth.  “Is this a good time?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Sure, Carter,” he answered casually.  “C’mon in.  I was just about to watch a game.  Wanna beer?” 

“Yeah.  Thanks.  That’d be good.”  She followed him into the kitchen and took the beer he handed her, deftly opened against the kitchen counter with a sharp smack of his hand. 

“Everything set for the wedding?” he asked as he led the way into his den, toward the back of the house. 

“What?  Oh.  Yes.  Everything’s fine, sir.” 

He shot her a glance over his shoulder, one eyebrow arched. 

She realized she had fallen back into ingrained habit.  “Sorry.” 

“ ‘S’okay.  It’ll take a little getting used to for all of us.”  He plopped into his big honey brown leather recliner and set his beer on a coaster on the end table fitted into the corner between the leather sofa and his chair.  “You guys got everything set for the move?  ‘Cause I’m not sure how much help I’d be with my knees and back in the shape they’re in.” 

“I didn’t come over to ask you to help us move,” she returned, unsure exactly how to begin. 

Then it dawned on her what she’d just said. 

_Us._

Her and Pete.  She felt a twinge of regret for what she was about to do, but she had to know, had to be sure she was making the right decision.  The only person who could help her was this man. 

Urging herself to just come to the point and stop the delaying she’d been doing for years, she blurted, “I came to ask you… how you feel… about _me.”_

_There!_ It was out in the open now.  The boundaries between them were gone.  She could ask, and he could tell. 

Only he didn’t.  He just studied her, his head cocked.  Then he leaned forward, took her left hand in his and used his thumb to jiggle the ring on her finger.  He glanced at it, then let her go and sat back in his chair, elbows on the recliner’s arms, hands clasped loosely over his still-flat belly. 

“You’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had, Carter,” he told her.  “I’m happy for you.  For _both_ of you.”  He glanced down at her ring again, making a point. 

As always, he was sidestepping the issue.  She swallowed the old, familiar rush of impatience with him and used her best wheedling tone.  “Jack, I need to know.  I need to be sure I’m making the right choice.” 

O’Neill’s face was impassive, impossible to read.  “Do you love him?” he asked quietly.  Even his voice was neutral. 

“Yes, of course I do, but—“ 

“Are you _in love_ with him?” 

“I.”  She couldn’t answer that.  She didn’t know the answer.  She thought so, but she wasn’t sure.  She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable under his calm scrutiny.  With a sigh of frustration, she decided to turn the tables on him and get the conversation back on track.  “Are _you_ in love with _me_ , Jack?” 

His brows dipped low in a slight frown.  “That question is neither appropriate for you to ask, nor for me to answer, Sam.”  He shifted slightly in his seat and pinned her with his best General’s stare.  “You getting cold feet, or what?”  

The way he said it, so carefully neutral, spoke volumes, at least in Sam’s mind.  Various compartments in her brain clicked open and shut, as she made some decisions.  After all, if he weren’t in love with her, wouldn’t it have been easy just to say ‘no’?  All those glances at her ring were hints that his sense of honor wouldn’t let him take her away from another man, even if it were her own choice.  Suddenly, Sam was convinced he DID love her, but because she was promised to Pete, he couldn’t say the words. 

_That was all the answer she needed._

“Thank you, Jack,” she said on a whisper, unable to stop the smile sliding across her face.  “That’s all I needed to know.”  She got up and leaned down to kiss him. 

He dodged and turned his face away, but not before she had seen his expression, still so perfectly neutral, emotionless.  

She was still wearing Pete’s ring, still engaged to him. 

_But not for long._

Jack O’Neill was in love with her, she just knew it, and as soon as she was free, she could finally have the man of her dreams. 

* * *

 

By the time she got her courage worked up to call Pete, Sam had half of her stuff unpacked and back into its usual place in her house. 

Ever observant, Pete noticed the moment he arrived, glancing around in confusion.  “What’s going on?” he asked, reaching for her. 

She stepped back, gently touching his hands and guiding them away from her body, down to his sides. 

“Why are you putting your stuff back?”  There was alarm in his eyes.  He already knew the answer to the question; he just didn’t understand the why. 

“I can’t go through with it, Pete,” she told him honestly.  “I thought I could do it, that what you were willing to give me would be enough… but it’s not.” 

“What are you talking about?” he asked on a nervous laugh.  “I’m giving you all I have.  All I am.  That’s not enough? I _love_ you, Sam! And you said you love _me_.  I _know_ you do.” 

She could see his pain now, flaring bright and hot in his eyes.  Part of her was hurting along with him, but she knew this had to be done.  They’d both be better off, in the end. 

“Yes, I do love you.  But I can’t.”  She sighed in frustration.  “I just can’t marry you.  It wouldn’t be fair to either one of us.”  Reaching into the front pouch of her sweatshirt, she pulled out the black velvet ring box, the engagement ring already tucked safely inside, and held it out to him.  

He stared at it, his brows wrinkling up in confusion.  When he lifted his gaze back to hers, his eyes were gleaming with soul-deep hurt.  His voice, when he spoke, was high-pitched and soft with unbearable pain.  “What’s really going on, Sam?  Tell me the truth.  I deserve that, at least.” 

He took the box slowly out of her hand, waiting. 

She wanted to tell him, but for an instant, she hesitated, her gaze dropping guiltily to his shoes. 

“C’mon, spill it,” he pleaded in a raw whisper.  “Just say the words.” 

She couldn’t look him in the eye, remorse weighing heavily on her heart.  It had been a mistake to get involved with him in the first place, but she had believed what she had really wanted would be forever out of reach.  She had stubbornly held onto those feelings for Jack, fostering them in the depths of her heart rather than letting them go and doing what was necessary to get over him.  Now she could have the man she’d loved for years; she could reach out and touch him and hold him next to her heart, as soon as this thing with Pete was done.  Part of her was soaring, because of that truth. 

When she looked back at Pete, he saw her secret joy and knew instantly what it was. 

Confusion morphed into rage in the blink of an eye.  “You fucking bitch,” Pete snarled as he stared at her.  “There’s someone else, isn’t there.”  He stepped back from her, slowly shaking his head in shocked disbelief.  “That’s why you waited two weeks to answer me when I proposed,” he guessed, his voice soft, edged with bitterness.  “You wanted to be sure second-best was good enough, didn’t you.” 

That wasn't a question. It was phrased as a solid certainty, and he was right about it. She'd danced around Jack, dropped hints, queried him about his own marriage, and gotten nowhere. In the end, she'd decided to go for the sure thing than to keep waiting for a man she couldn't seem to reach. 

“I’m sorry,” she told him honestly, pleading with her eyes.  “I never meant to hurt you, Pete.  I believed I could make it work with you, but now—“  She couldn’t find the words to explain further and just shrugged helplessly. 

His expression hardened, calculating, thinking back over their recent past.  “Now something’s changed.  Second-best isn’t good enough, because there’s someone better available.  The man you’ve wanted all along.”  He pondered, staring at her, figuring it out all by himself.  That was what made him such a good cop.  When he got it, he looked as if she’d suddenly shot him.  “It’s General O’Neill, isn’t it?”  He was so surprised at that intuition, so hurt.  

She just wanted to hold him, to tell him everything would be all right, that he’d find someone else and fall in love again, but she couldn’t.  She was rooted to the floor, paralyzed with guilt and shame for what she’d done to him.  “Yes,” she told him slowly.  “I’ve loved him for a long time, and now that he’s retired—“ 

Pete started to laugh; a harsh, bitter sound.  “Well, I hope he’s everything you dreamed, Sammy-girl.  But be careful what you wish for. You just might get it.” 

He tossed the box in the air and caught it.  “Hope I can get my money back on this thing,” he snarled, heading for the door.  “See ya ‘round, Colonel.”  

The door slammed in his wake, and for a moment, Sam felt utterly, completely alone.  Still, there were things to be done, people to call and a wedding to cancel, and she had the feeling she’d be doing all that by herself.  She was okay with that, and glad the worst part was over.  In no time at all she’d have her life back in order, and when that was all done, she’d invite the man of her dreams over for dinner, free at last to let nature and true love run their course. 

* * *

 

Unpacking took most of the day, and when Sam crawled into bed that night, she was bone weary but satisfied.  Tomorrow she would start making phone calls to cancel her wedding plans and notify invited guests.  Tonight, however, there was one call she looked forward to making.  

She picked up the phone by the bed and dialed the number she knew by heart.  The voice mail kicked in at Jack’s house, so she tried his cell, but it was turned off.  She left him a message instead. 

“Hi, Jack.  It’s me.  I just wanted to let you know… the wedding’s off.  I told Pete I couldn’t go through with it, but he figured everything out for himself.  I don’t know if he’ll come by to see you or not, but if he does…” 

She sighed and rubbed her face wearily.  “He’s just angry and in pain right now.  None of this is his fault, and I’m sorry he got hurt.  Um.  Call me when you get this message, even if it’s late.” She smiled into the phone.  “I just wanted to hear your voice.  G’night, Jack.” 

After hanging up the phone, she slipped down into the covers, imagining how wonderful her life would shortly be, with her dreams coming true right before her eyes. 

* * *

 

 ** _The Next Morning_**

Jack O’Neill sat in his truck in front of the modest little ranch-style house.  Finally, he shut off the engine, mustered his courage and got out, walking slowly up the sidewalk toward the front door.  The sound of glass breaking inside the house, followed by a muffled curse, came through the closed door, and he waited another few seconds before hitting the doorbell. 

A disheveled Pete Shanahan jerked open the door a few moments later.  There were dark circles beneath his red-rimmed eyes.  His five o’clock shadow was rapidly advancing toward bear status, and the smell of beer was strong on his breath.  He obviously wasn’t taking this well at all. 

“What the hell do YOU want?” Pete snarled.  “Come here to gloat?” 

Jack clenched his teeth, a small part of him aching inside for this good man’s loss.  “No, Pete.  I came to tell you what Carter’s done was a surprise to me, too.  I wanted to make sure you knew that I never made any moves on her.  Not _ever_.  I respected your relationship with her, and I’ve always thought you two were perfect for each other.” 

Pete’s laugh was loud and harsh as he leaned one shoulder into the doorjamb.  “Oh, and you’re NOT right for her?” he sneered.  “Sam damn sure thinks you are.” 

“I’m attracted to her,” Jack explained.  “I care about her.  But there’s a big difference between thinking someone’s hot and actually being able to have a life together.  Carter and I are too different.  We want different things; I’ve always known that, but she never really accepted it.  If I’d been able to stay in the military, I would have, and this would never have happened.  You two would still be gettin’ married, and I--”  He swallowed hard, all but choking on his regrets.  “I wouldn’t feel like this was all my fault.”  He hung his head, chin almost on his chest.  “I’m really sorry.” 

As Pete listened, some of the anger seemed to seep out of him.  He stood quietly in the doorway now, staring off into the distance over Jack’s shoulder.  Tears glistened in his eyes.  When he spoke again, his voice was rough and hoarse with emotion.  “So why _did_ you retire? Why now?” 

“I made a stupid mistake,” Jack admitted, “thinking I was untouchable.  And rather than taking a couple of other people down with me, I took the hit myself and bowed out voluntarily.  It was the right thing to do.  Just really bad timing.” 

Pete nodded.  He sighed and ran a hand through hair that badly needed combing.  “You’re an honorable man, General,” he said forlornly.  “Apparently Sam doesn’t share that same sense of honor.  I thought she did.”  

Jack nodded.  “So did I.  Evidently, neither one of us knows her as well as we thought we did.” 

With a lopsided, grieving smile, Pete added, “Better to learn all this now than if we'd had a couple of kids to deal with, huh?” 

“She would've been happy with you, Pete.”  Jack extended his hand toward Pete, gentleman to gentleman.  “One day, I’m sure she’ll see that.” 

The other man reached out and shook Jack’s hand firmly.  “Too late now.  Take good care of her,” Pete admonished, his voice quivering slightly with unshed tears. 

Fingering his keys, Jack cocked his head as he gazed at Pete.  “She’s a big girl, Detective Shanahan.  She can take care of herself.” 

“Yeah.  I guess she can, at that.” He swallowed hard.  “Thanks for coming by.  I appreciate it.” 

“Take care of yourself.  See ya ‘round.” Jack sauntered off the doorstep and back to his truck, glad he’d cleared the air with the jilted groom.  That, too, had been the right thing to do. 

He climbed behind the wheel and stuck the keys into the ignition just as his phone rang.  He checked the number of the incoming call and let it go to voicemail, along with all the others that had come in from that number.  He sighed as he started the engine, wondering just how persistent Carter was going to be.  He wanted to allow a respectful amount of time after the cancellation of the wedding before they started seeing each other, but she wouldn’t know that unless he told her.  Apparently, she was ready to jump right in and get things going, but he wasn’t.  

Deciding that maybe he ought to get that done, he drove over to her house, parked and knocked on the door.  She was beaming when she opened it, obviously having checked the peephole before she did so. 

She reached for him with open arms, his name on her smiling lips, but he stepped backward, keeping distance between them.  Instantly, her smile vanished, concern lighting her big blue eyes.  “What’s the matter?” she demanded worriedly.  “Is something wrong?” 

“A whole lot of things,” he shot back without thinking, then gentled his voice.  His retirement wasn’t really her fault.  She had played a small part in it, but the lion’s share of the blame was his, and he shouldn’t take it out on her for having been a semi-innocent bystander in his fall from grace.  “Look, Carter—“ 

“Shouldn’t you be calling me by my first name now?” she cut in gently, standing aside to allow him to enter the house.  

“Not yet,” he returned slowly, stepping inside just far enough for her to close the door behind them for some privacy.  “Look, if you called off your wedding to be with me, I have to tell you, I think you made the wrong decision.” 

“Don’t you think we should wait and see on that?”  A tiny, hopeful smile crept into her eyes. 

He sighed.  “Whatever.  It’s done.  But you’ve broken Pete’s heart, and for no good reason, as far as I can see—“ 

“Jack, I’ve wanted to be with you for most of the last eight years,” she interrupted.  “I think this is the right choice for me.  For both of us, I hope.”  She reached out slowly to take his hand, but he shoved them quickly into his pants pockets to keep them out of reach. 

“I think we should be careful about this, Carter.  Wait a little.  I don’t want people thinking you dumped Pete for me.”  He hesitated.  “Not even if it’s true.” 

That obviously surprised her.  “How… how long do you want to wait?” 

“Two or three months.  Maybe four.” 

Her eyes went wide.  Her mouth hung open for a moment.  “Months?” she squeaked.  “Jack, I’ve been waiting eight _years_!  I wanna do this _now_!”   

He took another step backward, opening the door and stepping out onto the porch.  “Not gonna happen, Carter.  I won’t embarrass Pete any more than is absolutely necessary.  Let’s show him a little respect.  And please, limit the phone calls to things we really need to discuss, just for appearances’ sake.” 

“But—but—“ 

“Call me old-fashioned,” Jack cocked his head and studied her,  “but where I come from, the guys always called the girls to ask them out.  Maybe that makes me too old-school for a liberated woman like you, but that’s the way I do things.”  He held up his cell phone.  “I’ll let you know when I think it’s time.  If you don’t wanna wait around, feel free to date somebody else.  Or see if you can still patch things up with Pete… if he’ll even still have you.  That’d be the smart thing to do, Carter.”   He pivoted on his heel and spoke to the sidewalk as he stepped away.  “Take my word for it; I’m not the great catch you seem to think I am.” 

He didn’t look back as he headed for his truck, confident his point had been made, and he’d be receiving no more phone calls until he gave the word that it was okay to do so. 

* * *

 

 ** _Five Days Later_**

Teal’c eyed the papers in the innocent-looking manila folder, uncertain if he were making the right decision.   He had meditated on the subject, and this seemed the only reasonable solution to the problem.  He couldn’t continue to serve in his present capacity forever; the immediate threat of the Goa’uld was dramatically decreased, and the Jaffa were still trying to organize themselves into an independent nation.  He was needed elsewhere.  O’Neill’s retirement and ColonelCarter’s recent decisions had simply been the nudge to get him going.  

He stared at the mound of food on his plate but wasn’t hungry.  Flipping open the folder, he glanced at the letter, already signed, and the forms underneath it, still waiting for signatures.  He closed it and slipped it partially under his tray. 

“Morning, Teal’c,” called DanielJackson.  He sat down on the other side of the commissary table, glancing around at the mostly empty room.  “What did you wanna talk about?” 

Teal’c had chosen that table because it was farthest away from everyone else in the room, in the back corner, where they could have some privacy. 

“I intend to resign my position here at Stargate Command and return to my people,” he stated succinctly. 

Daniel’s eyebrows lifted in surprise.  “Oh?  Well, I guess that’s not entirely unexpected.  I know they need someone with leadership qualities, and you’re one of the best candidates for that.”  He glanced down at his waffles, opened a syrup packet and poured it over them.  His voice dropped lower, grew softer, and he glanced back up at his friend knowingly.  “Is there some other reason you want to leave?” 

Teal’c sat very still.  He didn’t want to say negative things about anyone, especially someone for whom he felt such a deep friendship, but this man was also his friend.  He deserved to know the truth. 

“ColonelCarter,” he said simply.  “I cannot continue to serve under her leadership, now that O’Neill has retired.”  

The archaeologist seemed to be expecting that.  “You could transfer to another team,” he suggested.  “I’m thinking about that myself.” 

Nodding, Teal’c made eye contact and held it.  “Were you as surprised as I at her actions, DanielJackson?” 

“I’m trying not to jump to conclusions here, but the timing is…”  He sighed.  “I thought she was over Jack.  I thought she was being genuine with Pete.  This just… bowled me over.  No, I wasn’t expecting her to dump Pete the second Jack came available, and I intend to ask him what the hell is going on with that.” 

“Do you believe he asked her to call the wedding off?” 

“No way,” Daniel shot back adamantly, his hand slicing through the air for emphasis.  “He wouldn’t do that, Teal’c.  No matter how he felt about her.” 

Teal’c nodded.  “I did not believe ColonelCarter was capable of such dishonorable behavior, either; however, I have been proven incorrect.  Apparently, I did not know her character as well as I believed.”  

“We’ll ask him, then.  Tonight, we’ll go over to his place and confront him.”  DanielJackson glanced up.  He stopped talking and gave a little smile and wave to someone across the room.  “It’s Sam,” he said quietly.  “She’s seen us.” 

Teal’c pulled a few grapes off their stems and popped them into his mouth, concentrating on his breakfast. 

“She’s not coming over,” Daniel reported, cutting a bite of his waffle.  “Guess she’s going to her lab.”  He chewed and swallowed the first bite.  “I’ll call Jack to set it up and send you an email, if I get it arranged.” 

Nodding, Teal’c agreed with the plan and pushed the folder further under his tray. 

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later, Teal’c and his friend parted ways, and he took the folder straight to Level 18 and ColonelCarter’s office. 

She was sitting at her desk when he knocked, and shot him a quick, bright smile as he came in and shut the door. 

Had she kept her word, she would have been on her honeymoon today, he knew, but once she called off the wedding with PeteShanahan, she had cancelled her vacation as well.  There were no missions on the schedule for SG-1 due to that, so it was best he get this done before that timetable changed. 

“Hey, Teal’c,” she called.  “How’s it going?” 

He stopped on the far side of her desk and put the folder behind him, clasping one wrist in parade rest.  “I have come to a difficult decision, ColonelCarter,” he said stiffly, disapproval roiling inside him, his face a carefully composed mask of neutrality.  “I am going to take my leave of Stargate Command.”  

Her mouth fell open in surprise.  “Has something happened, Teal’c? Is Rya’c okay? Brata’c?” 

He looked away, his gaze resting on the corner of her desk rather than meet her eyes.  “Indeed something has happened, but my son and Master Brata’c are well.”  He hesitated, his affection for her warring with his disappointment.  “I believe my energies would be best spent among my people.  Perhaps I might discover a way to regenerate the broken alliance between the Jaffa and the Tau’ri.” 

He finally met her eyes, hoping she couldn’t read his expression.  “And it is long past time that I should return to be a proper father to my son.  Even as a married man, he will still need my guidance at times.  There is also… Ishta.  There are possibilities I should like to explore.”  

Sam stared at him in shock, grief blossoming in her big blue eyes.  “Well.  This is a surprise; I had no idea you were even considering this, Teal’c.  What made you—”  She seemed to answer her own question before he could respond.  “Of course.  General O’Neill’s retirement.  You joined us on the strength of his convictions as a warrior, and he’s not here anymore.”  A sigh slipped out of her, and she forced a smile she didn’t seem to really feel.  “We’ll miss you.  And of course, you’ll always be welcome here, if you ever want to come back.”  She stood up and came around the desk toward him. 

He put the folder between them, not wanting her to touch him.  She seemed a little startled, but opened the folder and glanced at the official documents.  “What kind of time frame are we talking about?” 

“I will be here for a few more days,” he announced flatly.  He would need to sell his SUV and whatever possessions he wouldn’t be able to take with him.  There were alsogoodbyes to be said, and final reports to generate for GeneralHammond. 

She smiled a little, sadly.  “I must admit; I’m stunned, Teal’c.  I wasn’t expecting this.” 

“I have been pondering this choice for some time,” he told her, which was true, but he had fully intended to continue to work with the Tau’ri.  She had changed things, brought him doubts he couldn’t resolve.  Now, however, was not the time to discuss such matters.  He wasn’t sure he could actually say what he felt to her face.  He did still care about her, and such a confession would not change her character; it would only cause her pain.  

It would be better to simply leave. 

ColonelCarter turned to review the documents, picked up a pen and signed in the appropriate places.  Her sadness was palpable as she met his gaze again.  “I’ll see that the paperwork is filed, Teal’c,” she told him quietly.  “I’ll miss you.”  

He gave her a slight bow and left her office.  

* * *

 

The rest of Teal’c’s afternoon was spent making preparations and packing things up.  At the end of the workday, he met DanielJackson in his office, went with him to the surface, and drove them both over to O’Neill’s house. 

O’Neill had a beer in his hand, and offered them one when they arrived.  Teal’c declined, as usual, but Daniel accepted.  They went into the den and took seats on the big brown leather sofa, while their host settled into his recliner. 

“To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” asked O’Neill merrily.  Obviously, he’d had a couple of beers already. 

“We came to talk about Sam,” said Daniel, launching right into the topic of interest without the usual preparatory chatter. 

“Oh.”  O’Neill’s mood suddenly changed, and not for the better.  He looked unhappy.  Possibly even a little guilty. 

“Did you ask her to call off the wedding?”  Daniel took a swallow of beer and made a face. 

Teal’c didn’t understand why he drank the stuff if he didn’t like it. 

The General’s expression was sharp, insulted.  “No, Daniel, I didn’t.  You should know me better than that.” 

The younger man nodded.  “I thought I knew Sam better than that, too, which is why I’m asking.  We want to know what happened.” 

With a sigh, O’Neill explained, recounting the events of ColonelCarter’s visit.  “It was her decision.  I did my best to stay out of it.”  

“But you didn’t tell her you weren’t in love with her?” Daniel observed. 

O’Neill’s dark eyes rolled over to meet Daniel’s.  “Because it wouldn’t be true, exactly.  I do care about her, but if I’d said that, I figured she’d have dumped Pete for sure.”  He worried at the back of his neck with one hand.  “I didn’t want this to be my fault, any more than I wanted to retire.  Unfortunately, I didn’t get to choose, in either case.” 

He explained about Hammond’s visit, and what they had discussed.  “Not a word to Carter about it, though, okay?” he asked.  “She doesn’t need to know.” 

“Maybe she does,” suggested Daniel.  “That might change things.” 

“No, she doesn’t, and I’m holding you to that.”  O’Neill pointed at his friend for emphasis.  

Teal’c began to understand.  He could see the pain in O’Neill’s face, his grief and sadness at the loss of the career he had so loved.  There was bitterness mixed in as well, and tremendous disappointment at how things had turned out.  He was angry with himself over the decisions he’d made and couldn’t take back.  

That didn’t portend a very positive change in his relationship with ColonelCarter.  

“Are you certain that making your relationship with her more intimate will be beneficial for either of you?” he asked, concerned. 

“Hell if I know,” O’Neill shot back bitterly, “but I doubt she’d take no for an answer now.  She won’t be satisfied till she’s got me.  Carter tends to get what she wants, in case you hadn’t noticed.”  He shook his head, swallowed down the rest of his beer.  “I’m too old for this shit.  As much as I love kids, I don’t wanna have any at this point in my life, and that’s probably high on her agenda.  I fucked up my first marriage, and I’m pretty sure I’d do it again, given the opportunity, so once burned, twice too fuckin’ shy to try it.  Plus the fact that she and I have absolutely _nothing_ in common, aside from the work she can’t talk about to me anymore.  Hell, this is such a train wreck.”  He worried at the nape of his neck with his free hand. 

“Don’t you think you should tell her all that up front?” asked Daniel, his voice soft and warm with sympathy and concern. 

“What good would it do?” O’Neill returned hopelessly.  “She’s already got this all planned out, if I know Carter.  She was ready to jump right into dating, without even giving her relationship with Pete a proper burial.  I told her I wanted to wait.  If I don’t ask her out, maybe she’ll get the hint and leave me the fuck alone.” 

“I thought you cared about her,” Daniel reminded him gently.  “That doesn’t sound like you do.” 

O’Neill’s expression was incredulous, angry, dark.  “I’m not in a very good place right now, Daniel.  I’ve done all I can for the moment.  I asked her to wait.  If I figure out I can’t do it, I’ll tell her.  If I think maybe I can, we’ll see how things change, if they do.  Maybe it’ll get better.  Maybe she’ll bulldoze me into a wedding after all, but I doubt it.  I don’t know what’s gonna happen here.  I just don’t want whatever it is to happen _now_.  I need some time to sort out my own issues.” 

For several moments, the three men sat in silence.  Daniel finished his beer and set the bottle down on a coaster.  

O’Neill glanced between them.  “Are we okay on this?” he asked hesitantly. 

“I think you did the right things so far,” Daniel admitted.  “I’m just not sure dating Sam is a good idea in the first place, regardless of how you feel about her.” 

“I think I may have to, so I can figure out how I really do feel about her, Daniel.”  He shook his head.  “I thought she had more integrity.  I thought, when she made a promise, she stuck with it.”   

“As did we all,” said Teal’c gravely.  

Daniel stood up.  “Well, I do feel a little better about what’s going on,” he stated with a sigh, “but Teal’c has chosen to move on, now that you’re not with us anymore.  The Jaffa nation needs him, and I think he’ll be great at whatever his does with his people.”   The admiration in his eyes was clear when he turned to face his friend. 

“You’re leavin’ us, T?” asked Jack, also rising from his chair.  “I’ll miss you, big guy.  You’ll come to visit, though, right?”  He stepped up and shook hands with Teal’c. 

“I will, indeed,” he promised fervently.  

“When are you leaving?”  Jack asked as the three men headed for the front door together. 

“I have been able to complete most of my preparations today,” Teal’c announced.  “DoctorLee has offered to take up payments on my SUV, and the rest of my possessions should be ready for transport tomorrow afternoon.  I see no reason to stay longer than is necessary.  There is much to be done on Dakara.” 

“I’ll be there when you’re ready to ship out,” O’Neill promised.  

As O’Neill opened the front door to show them out, DanielJackson patted his shoulder, and Teal’c offered him a nod of acknowledgment.  He and his younger companion returned to their vehicle, heart heavy with the demise of SG-1.  Teal'c would miss the people who had been like a family to him for a brief space in time.  
  

* * *

 

Daniel returned to his office after he and Teal’c got back to the base, trying to squeeze in a little more work on a translation for SG-11.  He’d been at it for a couple of hours, and his head was aching.  There was an aspirin bottle open on his desk and the overhead lights were off, the lamp and his computer monitors providing the only illumination in the otherwise darkened room. 

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, thinking of calling it a night. 

A knock sounded on his door, and he glanced up to a blurry image of a blonde woman coming toward him.  He squinted and recognized the walk and general shape, then put his glasses back into place to confirm her identity.  “Hello, Sam.  You’re here late tonight.” 

“Just stopping by to check on you,” she told him cheerfully.  “Got another headache?” 

“As usual,” he said with a little grin, picking up the aspirin bottle and waving it at her.  He started closing up books, saving files and getting ready to shut things down for the evening.  He was tired and wanted to go home. 

Sam came in and took a seat in the guest chair on the far side of his desk.  “Got a minute?” 

“Sure.  What’s up?”  He finished preparations to leave, everything except turning off the lamp. 

“I wanted to ask you about Teal’c.” 

“What about him?” 

“Doesn’t it strike you as odd that he wants to leave all of a sudden?” she asked.  “He’s been Teal’c of the Tau’ri for years now.  We’d have made a place for Rya’c and his wife, too, if he’d wanted to bring his son here.  He can still be of great use to us, and to his people, right where he is.” 

“And what kind of life would that have been for them, Sam?” he asked her quietly.  “Most of what Teal’c knows of our world has been learned through television, tabloids, and the internet.  He’s hardly ever been out of the mountain, and almost always in our company.  After that failed experiment at letting him try to have a life, I can’t imagine Rya’c and his bride being happy as virtual prisoners here on the base, as Teal’c has been all these years.  It’s not fair to ask that of any of his people.  They deserve to be free.  All of them.” 

Sam frowned, sitting forward in the chair and leaning her elbows on the desk, arms folded.  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.  But why jump ship so suddenly?  I thought the three of us were doing just fine together, and we can still hang out with Jack.”  She grinned with pleasure as she called him by his first name, obviously thrilled to finally have that freedom.  “In fact, we might be hanging out even more now.”  She glanced at Daniel, her smile widening, eyes sparkling with joy.  “He and I – well, we’ll be dating soon.  He wanted to wait a little, for appearance’s sake.” 

Daniel sighed, feeling slightly ill.  “Yeeeaaaahhh,” he drawled, looking back at the items on his desk, pushing some of them around aimlessly.  He didn’t intend to condone what she was doing, but he didn’t want to hurt her, either.  It would be better to just keep his opinions to himself. 

Sam gaped in surprise.  “Surely you knew how Jack and I felt about each other?” she blurted.  “I mean, all these years—“ 

“Yeah, I knew.  I think most people close to us knew, but we all thought it wasn’t going anywhere.”  He tried hard to keep his disapproval from showing on his face.  “We all thought you’d moved on and let that go, when Pete came into the picture.” 

“I did,” she insisted. 

“Did you?” he shot back.  He lifted his gaze to meet hers, no longer able to hide his disappointment.  He felt… distant, somehow, even farther away than when they had first found him on Vis Uban.  At that moment, he felt like he didn’t know her at all. 

“Well… yeah,” she answered incredulously. 

“And you’d moved on so completely you dumped Pete as soon as Jack was available,” he summed up.  He looked her squarely in the eyes.  His head was cocked, his lips pressed together, still holding back.  There was so much he wanted to say, but all it would do was hurt her.  He didn’t think she’d be able to learn from any of it, because she was basking in the glow of realizing a dream.  She wasn’t capable of thinking things through; not yet. 

“Wouldn’t you have done the same thing?” she demanded crossly, her fine brows twitching down into a frown. 

“No, I wouldn’t have,” he answered firmly.  “I waited for Sha’uri for three years.  I’d still be waiting, if she hadn’t died.”  

Sam frowned.  “What about Shyla?” she challenged angrily.  “You were ready to walk her down the aisle while you were _still_ married to Sha’uri.” 

Daniel slowly shook his head.  “I wasn’t exactly in my right mind then, either, if you’ll recall.  Had I been, I’d never have let any of that happen, and I think we both know that.”  He crossed his arms over his chest, his body language silently advertising the distance expanding between them.  “I’m sorry, Sam, but I’m not okay with this.  You had seven years to take your shot with Jack.  Doing it now, when you were already committed to someone else… It just bothers me.”    

He’d said it finally; that felt good.  At least she knew where he stood now. 

Sam’s temper flared.  “I _couldn't_ , Daniel,” she snapped.  “Not as long as he was my CO.” 

His cool gaze slid toward her.  “There were other teams, Sam.  You could’ve had him at any time.  You were the one who chose to stay on SG-1.” 

“I _deserved_ to be on the flagship team,” she argued.  “I _earned_ that spot.” 

“And in keeping it, you chose the job over him.  He saw that.  We all did.” 

Her mouth fell open in surprise.  “That’s not it at all!” she blurted, horrified at his conclusion. 

“Well, then, what _was_ the reason you stayed under his command all those years?”  His question was quiet, patient; open to whatever truth she chose to share. 

“I.”  She thought hard.  She frowned.  “I wanted to be close to him.” 

He gave her a knowing little smile.  “If you’d been dating, you’d have been a lot closer.”  He leaned back in his chair and waited for more.  She was rationalizing, and he could see it, looking for some valid reason for her actions over the last several years, when there wasn’t one.  Not a _good_ one, anyway.  

“It wasn’t the right time,” she said finally.  “The Goa’uld threat was too great.  That’s not as much of a problem now.  He retired because it was time.  Because he was ready to start a life with me.” 

Daniel clamped his jaws shut, wanting so much to tell her the truth, but he couldn’t.  Jack didn’t want her to know the real reason he’d retired, because she’d have felt responsible.  Hell, she was partly responsible!  To Daniel’s knowledge, Jack had been above-board with his conduct at all times, except when he’d covered her unbelievably bad judgment with RepliCarter.  That was a command decision, motivated by Jack’s loyalty to an otherwise good officer under extraordinary circumstances.  Sam, on the other hand, allowed her feelings for her doppelganger to get in the way. 

He remembered the reports he’d heard when Jack had been wounded the day Janet died; how Sam had seen him fall and broken cover to dash to his side.  It had been embarrassing to the officers who had put it in their mission reports, but somehow Sam had managed to remain unscathed.  There were other incidents, too, but she always managed to skate by without incurring any damage to her record.  Anyone else would have been court-martialed and serving time in prison, for some of the things she’d done. 

Daniel knew they were all guilty of breaking the fraternization regs; that had been Jack’s responsibility as he’d encouraged their togetherness, in an effort to forge a bond between them as a unit.  Their team had been more successful than any other at the SGC in meeting goals and acquiring information and technology.  Hammond had allowed them to stay together far longer than other commanders would have, strictly because of their success.  They could bend the rules at the SGC a little, because the members of SGC field units were so specialized and the roster so small, but it still created relationships that endangered team spirit, so the line was very fine, indeed. 

“Just be careful, Sam,” he told her.  “You might get your wish, but it may not really be what you wanted.” 

She stood up.  “As long as I have Jack, I’ll be fine,” she shot back, obviously unsettled by his attitude.  “I’m sorry you don’t approve.”  Her body language indicated that for the lie it was; upsetting as it might be, she obviously didn’t give a flying fuck what Daniel thought.  Not about this. 

Daniel stood up with a sigh, weary beyond measure.  There was so much he couldn’t tell her, so much she needed to know.  It wasn’t fair, and he felt sorry for her, but she’d made her bed, and now she was going to have to lie in it.  “This isn’t about my approval, Sam.  It’s about what’s right and wrong, not just for you, but also for everyone involved.  Please think about that.” 

She stared at him, anger snapping in her eyes, then pivoted on her heel and left in a brisk, angry walk.  

Massaging his aching back with one hand, he groaned wearily as he left for the locker room to change into his civvies before going home.  Tonight he’d be leaving with a heavy heart. 

* * *

 

The next afternoon, Sam was still perturbed as she punched the elevator button for the 28th floor.  Part of her knew Daniel had been right in his conclusions during their discussion.  Those same thoughts had crossed her mind early on, but she had stubbornly stayed on the flagship team because the regs were unfair.  It was hard enough in a male-driven military for a woman to get ahead, so she had kept her spot on SG-1 because she had _earned_ it.  She shouldn’t have had to be the one to make the sacrifice, when it would have been so much easier for Jack to retire.  And now, she really DID have it all, because she had held out for everything on her own terms.  She’d risen to the rank of lieutenant colonel, she still held her place on the best team in the SGC, and she was commanding the unit, no less.  

Now she had Jack, too.  She had done things her way and come out on top.  In a few months she and Jack would at last be in the relationship they were meant to have: home, family, and forever in each other’s arms.  If Daniel didn’t like it, that was his business.  They were still friends, and Sam was sure he’d get past it, especially when she and Jack were a couple and the three of them spent time together. 

Sam entered the ‘gate room, smiling as she caught sight of Jack, who was already there, his forearm clasped against Teal’c’s in the traditional greeting of Jaffa warriors.  They were talking quietly off to one side, Jack in his jeans and a pale blue polo shirt, looking casually edible, and Teal’c in his charcoal gray robes, his head freshly shaved for his return home.  Daniel stood nearby in his blue base fatigues, and he gave her a reserved smile. 

“Hi, guys,” she greeted the three men cheerfully. 

All three of them looked at her in sync.  Dismayed, she watched as the smiles they had just been wearing faded, and suddenly she felt like an intruder; there was an unmistakable chill coming off them in waves. 

All three of them. 

_Especially_ Teal’c. 

She stared up into his dark eyes, glittering coolly with disapproval.  He gave her a little nod of acknowledgement before turning back to face Jack. 

“You will be missed, my friend,” the big man intoned.  “This has been a good home, one I have greatly enjoyed.” 

“We’ll miss you, too, Teal’c,” Sam piped up, growing sadder by the moment.  Somehow she felt she was losing more than the mere presence of her old friend.  Tears prickled the backs of her eyes. 

He looked at her again, and this time his expression softened.  A hint of a smile toyed with the corners of his mouth.  “I shall also miss those among the Tau’ri whom I have counted among my friends.” 

“Good journey, Teal’c,” said Daniel when the Jaffa reached for his hand.  “May you be an instrument of healing to your people.”   He smiled brightly then.  “You already have been among mine.”   

Teal’c’s own smile bloomed bright as he pulled Daniel into a quick, back-slapping hug. 

“Come by and see me sometime,” Jack invited warmly.  “We’ll go to that place that has the Jell-O wrestling.”  He grinned and reached for Teal’c’s hand, doing a complicated, hip handshake with the alien.  “Love ya, big guy.  Be careful out there.” 

“As I do you, O’Neill,” he answered with a pronounced bow of respect. 

Sam just opened her arms to him, tears misting her eyes. 

He embraced her quickly, gently, and when he pulled out of her arms, he held his hand up over her head and moved it in a small circle in the air above her while he spoke in Goa’uld.  Some of the words she understood – it was a blessing of some kind, but she didn’t really catch enough of it to matter.  She was sure Daniel would translate for her later, and she thanked Teal’c with a smile. 

A moment later, the ‘gate was spinning up and after the event horizon stabilized, he was gone from their everyday lives. 

Jack’s gaze moved between her and Daniel.  “Lunch?” he asked them both.  “While I’m here anyway, we might as well—“ 

Daniel pointed up to the control booth.  “I… uh… gotta go, Jack.  Got a meeting with General Hammond, and I already ate anyway, but thanks.  Good seeing you again.” 

“Oh.  Well.  Mustn’t be late,” Jack returned lightly, flicking his hands at Daniel, playfully shooing him away.  “Run along now.” 

The linguist went around them and disappeared through the door, leaving Sam alone with Jack – except, of course, for the ever-present Marines on duty in the ‘gate room and the staff in the control booth, watching. 

Jack looked at her and raised an eyebrow in silent question. 

“I could eat,” she told him with a hopeful smile.  “And I’d like to talk to you about something.” 

“Sure,” he returned casually, leading the way. 

Minutes later, they rested their laden trays on a table in the back corner of the commissary; one Sam had chosen for what privacy she could get. 

“You look nice,” she told him happily, her eyes taking in his new tan and the greater amount of silver in his hair.  Soon there wouldn’t be any dark left, but he looked good like that.  He was aging beautifully. 

“Still workin’ out,” he assured her, digging into his food and not meeting her eyes.  “So what’d you wanna talk about?” 

She crossed her arms over her chest and sat back in her chair, her food forgotten for the moment.  “I just wanted you to know,” she announced quietly, “that I never chose the job over you.” 

Those brown eyes glanced at her dispassionately, then flicked back down to his plate.  “’Course you did, Carter,” he returned flatly.  “But it’s okay.  None of that matters now.” 

A hot flush of anger seared her cheeks and ears for a moment.  “It wasn’t fair that I should have to give up everything I’d worked so hard to achieve, just so we could be together.” 

“No, it wasn’t,” he agreed.  “Which is why you stayed under my command.”  

“Exactly.” She took a bite of her salad, watching him eat, his concentration on his food.  “Thank you for understanding.”  She paused for emphasis.  “ _Others_ aren’t taking it so well.” 

 “Does it matter?”  He shrugged.  “You’re getting what you wanted, right?” He gazed up at her then. 

She could feel the distance between them, and it gave her a chill.  “Jack, are you… okay with all this?” she asked uncertainly. 

His mouth flexed into a stiff smile, lips pressed together, but his eyes glittered with something hard and cold, like anger.  “Why wouldn’t I be?” he shot back.  “No more saving the world every day.  No more pesky aliens to fight, no more desert or ice age worlds to explore.” He wadded up his napkin and dropped it into his plate.  “And no more commissary food.  My stomach has decided a sandwich at home would be better than this.”  He abruptly got to his feet, his chair making a harsh scraping sound on the cement floor.  “You have a good one, Carter.” 

She couldn’t help feeling totally dismissed.  “You can call me Sam now, you know,” she said to his back as he walked away. 

“Not yet,” he called over his shoulder without turning around. 

As she watched, he disappeared through the commissary doors without looking back.  Her shoulders slumped.  She had never felt more alone.  It was as if everyone were leaving her behind, not just her Jaffa friend. 

Shaking her head, she went back to her lunch.  She told herself men would never really understand a woman’s needs and feelings; that had to be the problem.  Whatever, she was sure she’d get a handle on things, just as soon as she and Jack were together at last. 

* * *

 

 ** _Three  Months Later_**

Jack answered the door without glancing into the peephole and instantly regretted it.  

Sam Carter stood on his doorstep, looking nice in a little white dress with flowers all over it.  She smiled, her eyes sad, uncertain, but her body language spoke of eagerness and excitement.  She was practically vibrating on his doorstep, tightly strung and twitchy.  

“Hi,” she ventured carefully.  “I haven’t heard from you in a while.  Thought I stop by, see how you’re doing.” 

“Peachy,” he responded without thinking.  Guilt seeped all through him, making his limbs feel heavy, leaden.  He hadn’t spoken to her in weeks, deliberately avoiding her phone calls, hoping her interest would wane, but it never had.  And now here she was looking so pretty and hopeful.  He stepped back and let her in with a quiet sigh of resignation.  “C’mon in.” 

“Thanks,” she said with a grin, flirting with her eyes.  

He closed the door behind her and followed her into the living room, hands stuffed into his jeans pockets, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.  He thought he’d have more time to get ready for this; six months, and he wasn’t close.  “Want something to drink?” 

“How ‘bout a beer?” 

So she was planning to stay for a while. 

This felt so awkward, but he couldn’t think of a single excuse to get out of it.  Time to face the music, he decided, and figure out whether or not this was gonna work.  “One beer, coming up,” he returned as cheerfully as he could manage, and went to the fridge to get one for her.  He opened the bottle and carried it into the living room, handing it to her as they both took seats on each end of the sofa. 

He’d spent far too much time not thinking about the situation with Carter, and it was high time he made a decision, one way or another.  To be fair, he was going to have to try to lay all the other crap aside and look at her as a woman and nothing else.  If he couldn’t relate to her like that, it would never work, no matter how hard they tried.  He hadn’t done the flirting thing for a long time, but he was pretty sure it was bicycle-riding territory – once learned, always ingrained. 

“So,” he said, forcing his voice to sound casual.  “How are things?” 

“Oh, you know.”   She shrugged.

”Had dinner yet?” 

“Not yet.  I was hoping we might do something about that together.”  She took a sip of her beer, set the bottle down, slid the length of the sofa, and kissed him soundly on the lips. 

That was easier than he’d thought it would be.  He kept trying to put the brakes on, slow down a little, but Carter was revved and ready, climbing into his lap and going for his zipper.  The woman had no patience anymore; apparently she thought she’d waited long enough, but Jack didn’t want this to just be about sex.  

His libido, however, had other ideas, and before he could really say no, she was pulling his dick out of his pants, sliding to her knees and giving him an enthusiastic blowjob.  He was fully prepared to stop there, but knew she’d be disappointed if she didn’t get something out of it, too.  He gripped his cock at the base and squeezed, reining himself in so he didn’t come too soon. 

“Wait,” he called gently, stroking her silky blonde hair.  “Let’s take this to the bedroom.”  

Her lips were rosy and wet, her white teeth shining, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm when she sat back and looked at him.  “Do you have condoms?” she asked, breathing heavily. 

“No.  I wasn’t exactly ready—“ 

“I have some,” she told him.  “They’re in my purse.”  She grabbed it up and waited for him as he gathered his pants over his dick and stood up. 

He walked her into the back of the house, shaking his head at her enthusiastic disrobing.  She was almost naked by the time they got to the bedroom, and before he was half undressed, she had the condoms out and the bed turned down.  She was beautiful, with acres of creamy skin, pert pink nipples and a nest of curly golden hair between her thighs. 

Jack didn’t want to think about the fact that this was Carter, concentrating on her body rather than her face, his hands and mouth exploring her, tasting her, listening to her pant and call to him in delight when he entered her. 

“God, sir, that feels so good,” she gasped. 

He froze, lifting himself up to look down at her with furrowed brows.  “This is _not_ gonna work if you call me that again,” he told her sternly. 

“Sorry,” she grinned.  “Old habit.”  She undulated beneath him, encouraging him to move.  

He kissed her, keeping her mouth busy so she wouldn’t slip up again. 

He worked to pretended she was someone else – anyone else – and it was just sex.  As long as he didn’t look at her, kept his eyes closed and moved by feel, he was okay with it.  Her responses told him she was enjoying it (or faking really well), and it did feel good.  Sex always felt good, and it had been a while for him.  Aside from Kerry, he’d had years of self-imposed celibacy, and it was nice to have a woman in his bed again. 

As soon as he managed to bring her to climax, he hurried through his own and lay still across her, his face mostly buried in the pillow beside her head.  

“Wow, Jack,” she whispered.  “Just like I always thought it’d be.” 

His name on her lips sounded awkward. It felt that way, too. 

“I’m glad you liked it,” he returned, his smile hesitant.  He didn’t believe her for a second, knowing he’d been distracted, uncertain, embarrassed.  His heart wasn’t in it, and he wasn’t sure he could make it go there, but this was a start.  “I _can_ do better.” 

“Damn.  How soon?”  Carter was beaming, her smile blinding. 

“Keep my age in mind, Sam,” he cautioned with a grin, rolling away from her and pulling off the condom.  “Once a night is all I’m good for, so don’t get your hopes up.”  He glanced at her, eyebrows lifted.  “There’s a lot of other stuff I can do, though, if you want more right away.” 

She sat up and kissed him, sighing as she pulled away.  “Maybe later.  I seem to remember something about an offer of dinner?” 

“Then we’ll do that, get our second wind, and see what we can come up with for dessert.” 

“Mmmmm,” she hummed appreciatively.  “I’ve got some ideas already.”  

He started to rise, intending to go back to the beer he’d left in the living room and see about dinner. 

“This is a good start,” she said gently.  “I look forward to ‘better’, though I don’t have any complaints about this.” 

“You hungry for anything in particular?” he asked, his mind already rummaging through his refrigerator for what he might rustle up for two. 

“Anything’s good,” she agreed.  “Or we could order out.” 

They spent a companionable evening in the kitchen and dining room, after which she seemed reluctant to go.  He eased her out the door with the promise of a proper date, and after she had gone, he wondered what the hell had happened, how she had so completely blitzed him, and what he was going to do about it now.  He really wasn’t ready yet, could have used another month or two, but Carter was past waiting for him to take the initiative.  She had taken the bull by the horns, so to speak, and now it was time to finally decide whether or not the two of them could have a real romantic relationship, or if they were better off as friends. 

He’d give it some time and see how it went. 

Trudging up to the roof, he settled into place beside his telescope and took off the lens covers, letting his mind drift to other things, contemplating his life and circumstances.  The pain of losing his command was still with him, dogging him throughout every day.  He felt purposeless, old and used-up.  Bitterness still cut at him, and it was starting to get harder to get out of bed in the mornings. Depressed, he supposed.  

Maybe being with Carter would help.  He’d foolishly agreed to go out with her the next day for movies and ice cream, and would undoubtedly end up in bed with her again.  He was lonely, and this would get him out of the house again; keep him active.    

The sex had been nice.  He’d needed some kind of release, and she _was_ beautiful.  Now that he’d seen her naked, he’d gotten the full effect, and she was truly a stunning woman; way better than Mary Steenburgen, and Carter was way younger than her, too.  He was pretty confident of his skills as a lover and thought he could keep her satisfied, in spite of their age difference, as long as his parts stayed in working order.  

Later that evening, he returned to the house, went into his bathroom, undressed and got into the shower, washing the last traces of her lipstick off his cock. 

Maybe he could do this after all.  He owed it to her to try, but anything else that felt uncomfortable, he’d have to be more adamant about stopping.  She was already moving too fast, and he was going to have to slow things down a bit.  

While he washed the evidence of what they’d done off his body, he rehearsed what he’d say to her tomorrow, planning his strategy and how to maintain command over the situation, if she tried to take matters – or his dick – in hand again.  As long as he stayed in control, they’d be okay.  Or at least they’d have a chance of figuring out together whether or not they had both lost their minds, as well as their dignity. 

* * *

 

 ** _Two Months Later_**

Sam lay with her head on Jack’s chest, the curly hair tickling her nose, her ear suctioned like a vacuum against his sweaty skin, but she wasn’t going to budge.  As long as she remained sprawled across him, he would stay in her bed, but she knew as soon as she moved off him, he would start shifting, moving, talking, giving her excuses why he had to go home. 

He always left, getting up from her bed to go to his own.  Aside from their awkward first time, they had never made love at his house; always at hers.  After two months, it was starting to bother her.  “Why won’t you sleep with me, Jack?” she asked finally.  

“I’m just used to sleeping alone,” he answered quietly. 

That sounded almost rehearsed, as if he’d been expecting the question.  She lifted her head off him to look up into his face, unsettled anger making her insides churn.  “Oh, bullshit,” she shot back, tired of pussy-footing around her disappointment.  “You slept with your ex-wife for most of your adult life, and you’ve shared a tent off-world with Daniel for most of the last ten years.  Why won’t you spend one night with me?” 

He was quiet for a long time, just studying her in the flickering candlelight.  “It’s complicated, Sam,” he admitted.  His voice was gentle, his expression guarded, a little sad. 

“I don’t usually have difficulty understanding complicated concepts,” she returned dryly.  

“Well, I’m not so good at talkin’ about ‘em,” he told her, rolling out from under her and picking his underwear up off the floor.  He sat up with his back to her and started putting them on, getting ready to go. 

She didn’t want him to leave, but she was clueless how to stop him.  She sat up behind him, hugging him as he yanked at his jeans, her breasts pressed up against his naked back.  “Then how ‘bout if I come to your place?  Maybe you’ll be more comfortable in your own bed, rather than sleeping in mine.” 

He eased away from her and stood up, buttoning and zipping his fly.  “I’d rather you didn’t,” he said flatly as he bent at the waist to scoop up his tee shirt and slip it over his head.  

She was starting to get really pissed off now.  Anger flared.  Her patience with him had worn extremely thin over the last few months.  “Why not?  You’re okay with fucking me, but you don’t wanna wake up with me?  I thought you loved me, Jack, but I still haven’t heard you say it.  Why is that?” 

She snapped on the lamp and dived for her own clothes, pulling her silky tank top on and searching the trail of clothing to the bedroom door for her panties. 

Hands on hips, frowning, he rounded on her.  “Look, we go out together.  We have fun.  The sex is great.  Why push it, Sam?  Things are fine between us.  Why can’t we just leave things the way they are?” 

“Because I want more!” she snapped angrily.  “I want us to live together, Jack.  Marriage, kids, the whole nine yards!  You’ve always known that.”  

His expression darkened.  He straightened, looking down his nose at her.  “You're right. I have always known that, but you never bothered to think about what _I_ wanted, did you? I never promised you _any_ of those things, Sam.  Don’t get _me_ mixed up with Pete Shanahan.” 

She stepped backward, stunned by what he’d just said.  She was as shocked as if he’d slapped her across the face.  “But I thought—“ 

“I’m fifty years old, for cryin’ out loud!” he ground out, his dark gaze burning a hole through her now.  “If my son had lived, he’d be a grown man by now.  I don’t want to start over with diapers and 2 AM feedings.  I want to relax and enjoy what’s left of my life, on my terms.”  

He located his socks and shoes and sat on the edge of the bed to put them on, glancing at her with unhappy eyes.  “I enjoy the quiet in my house, Sam; I’m not ready to give that up, either.  I like my life just the way it is.  I never promised you more than what we’ve got.  I said we’d date; _we’re dating._ ” 

Sam was reeling.  As much as Jack loved children, she had just assumed he’d be open to the idea of having a family with her.  Now she understood why he’d always insisted on wearing a condom whenever they’d made love.  He wasn’t taking any chances on accidents. 

Things were beginning to make terrible sense to her now, and part of her was starting to grieve. 

She swallowed hard.  “What about… us?” she asked, her throat starting to tighten.  “Is this always how it’s going to be with us?” 

He came over to her, taking her shoulders in his big, strong hands, giving her a little squeeze.  “I don’t need more than what we have going for us now,” he told her gently, “and I can’t give you more than this.  Maybe I could have at one time, but right now, this is all I have left.  I _tried_ , but I can’t offer you more than this.  I’m sorry.  I know you wanted more, but I was hoping this would be enough.” 

He stepped back, sadness etched into his face, deepening the lines on his forehead and cheeks, making him look suddenly older.  “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, for us to be together. You never considered what I wanted, Sam. You're attractive, sure. I care about you, absolutely. But I already did the 'I do's' and once was enough for me. That was never on the table, and maybe I should've made that clearer when you came to see me before you dropped Pete like a hot rock. _Shame on me_ for thinking you understood the subtext. You were never good at that.” He paused. "Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, for us to be together."  

Her mouth dropped open.  “Are you-- are you breaking up with me?” 

Jack stared at her.  His eyes were hollow and dark, aching with pain she hadn’t noticed before, but now felt like a furnace blast.  “I guess I am.  This was wrong for us.  Maybe we worked it out in some of those other universes, but I don’t see how those other Sams and Jacks made it.  Love has to be built on something other than selfish desire.  We made each other feel good.  We were friends.  Maybe we still can be; I don’t know.  But _this_ , what we’ve been doing here?”  He shook his head, gesturing toward the bed they'd shared.  “That’s _not_ love.  It’s a Band-aid for our loneliness.  Guilt.  _Need_ , maybe.  All I _do_ know is, it’s a whole lot of things that aren’t love, and it’s not working for either of us.  This isn’t making us happy, and it would be better for us to end it _before_ we start to hate each other.” 

She watched him leave, unable to follow him to the front door, unable to move from the spot where she was standing.  Slowly, her heart sank into her feet.  Grief filled her up and flowed out of her eyes in a silent river.  All her dreams, it seemed, had just died a sudden, tragic death.  None of what she had so longed for had turned out as she expected.  Reality was a hollow, empty shadow of her heart’s desire.  She would need time and distance to be able to think clearly, to sort out what had gone wrong with Jack. 

She had been arrogant to think things would be perfect between them, if only Jack had retired so he could be free of military regulations.  All her life she had gotten her way, either by her own achievements or through her father’s influence.  He had pulled strings to get her into NASA, not knowing she was already involved in something much bigger, and that was something he’d done all her life.  She’d never handled defeat or rejection well, and this promised to be her most _spectacular_ loss. 

Wearily, Sam crawled back into her bed, hoping to get some sleep and look at the situation in the morning, when she was fresh.  Only she could smell him on the sheets, the scent of sex strong in the room.  The echoes of his sighs and groans of pleasure kept her awake, tossing and turning under the covers.  At 3 AM she got up and changed the sheets, throwing the old ones into the washer and starting the load, but even clean linens couldn’t bring her peace of mind. 

Finally, she showered and dressed and went into the base, hoping an early start on one of her research projects might take her mind off things.  She passed by Daniel’s office on the way to her lab and saw that his door was open.   He was bent over his desk, still hard at it.  

She stood in the doorway, watching him.  She’d missed him since his reassignment six months back, as SG-11’s chief archaeologist and team leader.  She was glad to see Daniel finally getting some recognition, and while she hadn’t been sure about the wisdom of putting a civilian in charge of an SG team, Daniel had proven he could more than handle the demands.  He had learned enough about soldiering during his tenure on SG-1 to have the knowledge and training to keep his team safe and bring them all home, which he had done without fail. 

Sam barely saw him anymore, but right at that moment, she felt an overpowering need for his wisdom and his friendship.  She knocked on his door, and he looked up, greeting her with a smile. 

“Hey, there, stranger,” she called, more cheerfully than she felt, as she moved into the room. 

Daniel came out from behind his desk to meet her, and she saw he was limping.  “Hey!” he called back.  “How’s Jack?  I haven’t been home in a while.” 

That brought her right back to the turmoil she’d been suffering.  “Jack’s fine,” she answered as she put her arms around Daniel, burying her face against his neck, needing that contact to keep her anchored.  “Did you get hurt?” 

“Just a sprained ankle,” he assured her.  “It’s nothing.”  His arms came up around her and held her tight, as if he could sense her inner disquiet.  “What’s the matter, Sam?” he asked against her hair. 

“It’s Jack,” she answered tightly, struggling not to cry. 

Instantly, Daniel pulled back, worry written all over him as he looked into her eyes in alarm.  “Is he all right?  What happened?”  His color was draining away, imagined illness or accident scrolling at light speed through his thoughts, all of that speculation on his face.  

“No, no, he’s fine,” she reiterated.  “It’s just.”  She shrugged.  “Jack and me.  It didn’t turn out like I always thought it would.  We had really different ideas about our future, so he broke up with me.” 

Worry vanished on a soft sigh of relief as he pulled the rest of the way out of her arms, returning to his seat with a quiet, “Oh.” 

She studied him.  “You don’t seem surprised.” 

He frowned.  “That Jack isn’t interested in getting married or having kids?  I’ve known that about him for a long time.” 

“And you didn’t think I needed to be informed?” she snapped, feeling more out of the loop than ever.  She wouldn’t even question how Daniel knew exactly what her problem with Jack was.  Daniel was a bright, sensitive guy who knew both her and Jack incredibly well.  

He cleared his throat nervously.  “I wasn’t exactly in on your decision-making process when you decided to break up with Pete and go for Jack, if you’ll recall.  That was already done when I heard about it, and by then it was too late.  I’m sorry, Sam.”  He tilted his head, studying her with his perceptive blue eyes.  “Corny as it sounds, it’s true – we don’t always get what we want.” 

She felt as if everyone knew what had been in store for her, except herself.  Filled with self-pity and bitter disappointment, she slumped into the nearest chair. 

“He wouldn’t even sleep in the same house with me, Daniel,” she moaned.  “That part of it I just couldn’t fathom, no matter how I looked at it.  I mean, I could understand about the kids and his age, I guess, but I still don’t see why he was so reluctant for us to REALLY be together.  It was as if he only wanted me in small doses.”   

She glanced up at her old friend and saw in the quick, nervous smile he flashed at her and his guilty hurry to dive back into his books that he knew the answer to that, too. 

“Daniel?” she prodded. 

He looked back at her, brows raised, face schooled into innocence.  “What?” 

“You know, don’t you?” 

He coughed slightly, evading, stalling.  “Know what?” 

“Tell me.”  She stared at him.  “Help me understand.” 

He turned his gaze back to his desktop, head down, blinking, thinking, weighing his options.  Finally, he loosed a weary, sad sigh.  “You weren’t ever supposed to know, and Jack will kill me for telling you, but maybe it’ll help you understand why he stayed out of reach.”  He turned to face her.  “It hurts him to be with you, Sam, because you’re part of the reason why he had to retire.” 

She frowned.  “What?  Nobody made him retire.  He _chose_ to do it.” 

Daniel shook his head.  “No, he didn’t.  Jack _was_ given a choice, and he chose to save your career and Kerry Johnson’s, rather than drag both of you down in disgrace with him.”  He paused.  “He’s a man of honor, Sam.  He’s made some bad decisions and, he had to pay for it, but he didn’t want anyone else hurt.” 

“But we never – not while he was still in the military—“ 

“I know.”  Daniel’s smile was kind, but filled with sadness.  “People wanted Jack gone, and you and Agent Johnson were the tools they used to get to him.  It didn’t matter that you and he never crossed the line.  Enough people _believed_ you had, and for the military, that was enough; appearances are _everything_.  He covered for you when he shouldn’t have, and that made it look like there was something going on between you.  He paid the price for your error in judgment with RepliCarter.  He should _never_ have let you go to the Alpha Site to meet with her. Had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have let the meeting take place, but he trusted you.” 

Sam felt sick, listening to him.  Her mind was struggling to make sense of all this, thinking back over the years how she and Jack had danced around each other.  Every instance she could remember, every hint of interest, aside from the occasional lingering stare from Jack had been _her_ dropping hints to _him_.  “Oh, my God,” she breathed in wide-eyed horror.  “I killed his career, didn't I? _I_ did it.  He was _innocent_ , Daniel!  He never, not once, made a move on me, except that time when we thought we were Jonah and Thera.” 

She frowned, confused.  “But RepliCarter?  I did _everything_ I could to prevent a disaster there.  I was careful!” 

He shook his head, tender sadness and grief etched into his face. “You gave access to the only technology we had to fight the Replicators to one of them.  RepliCarter nullified its effects.  What you did took away our _one_ advantage, and you never received any kind of reprimand for it.  Sam, that was tantamount to _treason_.”  He touched her cheek lightly with his fingertips.  “We still saved the day, but there were some seriously bad decisions made all through the mission.  You should never have been allowed to deal directly with RepliCarter because of the _potential_ for emotional resonance.  Jack knew it, but you insisted and you got away with the mistakes you made. He made that go away, and that figured highly in the case against him.” 

“What would you have done?” she demanded, her temper rising a little, refusing to accept his assessment. He had to be wrong! 

He eyed her steadily. His voice was warm and soft, without the slightest accusation.  “I’d have destroyed RepliCarter instantly.  I had no sympathy for it.  You let your feelings get in the way.” 

She hung her head and thought back over the aftermath of that disaster, her heart twisting up inside her as she realized he was right.  “And it ended up costing my father his life,” she added.  She stared at him, at how he avoided her eyes after that realization, and understood something else.  “She killed you, too, didn’t she?” 

When he dragged his gaze up to meet hers, she saw the truth in them, the pain of his remembered death and second ascension. 

“Oh, Daniel!  I never thought about _any_ of that!  I never considered how it might have affected anyone else involved.  I thought it was just between the double and me, and _now_ look at what I’ve done to everyone, especially to Jack!” 

Daniel was staring at the floor, hands clasped in his lap.  “I know,” he agreed quietly, “but it was his choice; he took the fall, and every time he sees you, he remembers that.  He can’t help it, and it’ll always be between you, no matter how close you might have become.” 

She sat back in her chair, sick at heart, angry at the NID or whoever had been behind Jack’s downfall.  She was helpless to change the past, stuck in an unhappy present, looking toward an uncertain future.  She had to find a way to make it up to Jack, to help him forget what had happened, because she _damn_ sure didn’t want to let him go.  

What had happened with RepliCarter was over and done; there was nothing she could do about it now.  What she _did_ need to examine, and look at hard, was the view into her own psyche that RepliCarter had provided her.  That creature was who she would have been without a conscience: ruthless and self-serving, cold and calculating, heedless of the cost of her actions to anyone else, as long as she got what she wanted. 

That was the way she was, too, underneath her veneer of caring and friendly cooperation.  Maybe she had a little more conscience.  Maybe she was more compassionate toward others, but she had always been ambitious and never let anyone else stand in the way of achieving her desires.  She had been patient, like the Aschen, waiting for what she wanted to come available, and then going after it with the brakes off.  Jack had asked her to wait for him to give her the go-ahead; she had waited until she was tired of waiting, and then had simply taken matters into her own hands.  Jack hadn’t been ready, but she had forced his hand.  She was sure, now, that she _herself_ was responsible for pushing him away from her. 

She still had her rank and position, for what that was worth, but maybe she hadn’t made some of the best judgments in the past.  She’d need to take a hard look at her command decisions, and make some adjustments there.  Suddenly, there was an awful lot to think about, in addition to her relationship with Jack O’Neill… whatever was left of it, if it were even salvageable at all. 

“You okay?” asked Daniel gently. 

She glanced up at him, at the oddly distant, yet concerned expression drawing his heavy brows together.  “Yeah.  I’ll be okay.  This is just… hard to hear, you know?  But it explains a lot. Thanks for telling me.” 

“Of course. That's what friends are for. We tell each other the things that are hard to hear, and we help each other get better. If you want to talk more, you know where to find me.” 

Sam got up and wandered around to the back side of the desk, still thinking, sure there was something else they should talk about, but so unsettled inside that she couldn’t dredge up what it might be.  She picked up one of the framed photos pushed to the edge of the desk, taken during SG-1’s first year together as a team.  One of the other SGC team members had taken the photo off-world, enjoying a rare moment of light-hearted fun.  Even Teal’c was smiling. 

She missed him, too, and his quiet wisdom.  Remembering the last time she had seen him, she thought about how he’d said his goodbye to her and that she had forgotten to ask Daniel for a translation.  “Hey, remember when Teal’c left?  I was gonna ask you what he said to me, but—“ 

Daniel’s eyes, when he glanced up at her, were cool but intense.  He looked back down at the work strewn all over his desk.  “Sort of a wish for your future,” he answered vaguely.  

“Oh.  Cool.”  She smiled.  “What was it?” 

Picking up his pen, Daniel began to tap it against his left hand, obviously thinking again.  He sighed and stood up, pitching the pen back among his papers.  He looked her in the eye, his expression grim.  “Try to remember where Teal’c was coming from, Sam.  He meant it in a good, hopeful way, because he _really does_ care about you.  He was just… disappointed.” 

Sam frowned, remembering.  “About what?” 

Clearing his throat, he gave her a tense smile filled with pain.  “You and Pete,” he answered as gently as he could. 

Anger flashed through her again.  It pissed her off that everyone was so upset by her breakup with Pete.  That was old news.  “So what’d he say?” 

Daniel held his hand over her head, exactly as Teal’c had done that day in the ‘gate room, translating his blessing.  “ _’May you one day discover the true meanings of these words: love... cherish... and above all, honor.  May you have what you have so long desired, and may you learn to be happy with what you have, rather than always wanting what is forever out of reach.’_ ” 

He lowered his hand and slipped it into his pants pocket.  He looked sad. 

She stared at him, realization slowly dawning through the shock.  Embarrassment and anger filled her up.  “Is that why Teal’c left?” she demanded.  “Because Jack wasn’t with the SGC, and I had lost my honor in his eyes?” 

He returned her gaze without flinching.  “Yes.” 

A sudden, devastating thought struck her.  “Daniel, did you _ask_ for a transfer to SG-11?  Was it because of me?  Because you didn’t want to be around me either?” 

He was quiet for a moment.  “That wasn’t the only reason, Sam.  I had something to prove, and needed my own team to do that.”  He shrugged.  “But I did think I’d feel better about us as friends if I were on another team.  I needed a fresh start, too.”  

Sam felt numb, reeling from all this unpleasant truth.  “So _do_ you feel better?  Did it help?”  She couldn’t help the angry snap of her words. 

He sighed and his chin dipped lower, looking at her from beneath his lashes.  “Not really.  It felt like a betrayal to all of us, when you left Pete for Jack.  You didn’t just break your word to Pete, you know.” 

“You mean I broke a promise to the whole SGC?” she snarled, flinging a hand out to indicate the whole base.  “Is _that_ what you’re trying to say, Daniel?  That my love life belongs to everyone here?” 

His head tipped back slightly.  “You’re a Lieutenant Colonel, Sam.  You set an example for everyone, so yes; in a way, your personal life is a direct reflection of your character and your command.  You made a commitment and then tossed it aside when you thought you had a chance at something you believed would be better.  That bothers a lot of people here.  It bothers _me_.  I thought you were _better_ than that.  Stronger.  Smarter.  More compassionate.  If you can’t be truly honest with yourself enough to avoid making a commitment you know you really don’t want to keep, then maybe you can’t be honest with the rest of us, either.  This is a good opportunity for introspection, here.  Maybe you should take a look at what motivated you to make those decisions, and use the lessons to learn to make better choices for your future.” 

She heard the sadness in his voice, saw a mist of tears in his eyes, blinked quickly away, but she ignored his obvious pain, anger clouding her heart and ability to reason.  “Thanks for the honesty,” she spat.  “I _thought_ you were my friend.  Guess I was wrong about that.” 

“I _am_ your friend, Sam,” he agreed mournfully, returning to his chair with a weary sigh.  “I still care about you, and I know how much all this hurts to hear, but you’re right; you did deserve to know the truth.” 

Sam pivoted on her heel and strode out of his office, heading down the corridor to her lab.  She paced for a while, working up a full-fledged rage.  Heading for the gym, she changed into sweats, ran five miles on the treadmill, and then punched the heavy bag for a while, in an effort to get rid of some of her aggression. 

Afterward, she felt a little better.  Following a shower and change, she returned to her lab to finish up the mission prep, working into the wee hours of the next morning until she was weary enough to try for some sleep.  

General Hammond had already told her he would be assigning her to a research position as soon as a replacement could be found for her on SG-1, and now she understood why.  _No one_ trusted her in a command position anymore.  They were aware of her screw-ups, things she hadn’t even been willing to admit were mistakes, and now she’d be placed into a position of far less authority, where she could still do some good by figuring out alien technology and developing original devices for the SGC.  It just wasn’t going to happen quickly, because she was still needed on her team for the moment.  One more mission, and she’d be stepping down from the field for good, and not by her own request. She'd still have her rank, but no command responsibilities again; _not ever._

She lay awake thinking for a while until exhaustion caught up with her, and she slipped into troubled dreams. 

* * *

 

 ** _One Week Later_**

The hut was dark and quiet, dust motes dancing lazily in the still air.  Sam watched them, sipping her water from the alien’s clay cup.  The Yaddap were good hosts, pleasant people, and Sam had enjoyed their visit with them, but she had delayed SG-1’s departure because she had made an important discovery while in that village. 

The Yaddap were old allies of the Tok’ra and had a means for contacting them.  They had done so on her behalf the previous day, and now she was waiting for an answer to her summons.  She watched one of the Neanderthal-like aliens move about the hut, humming to herself, and wondered how much longer she could delay her team’s return to the base.  They were already several hours past due, and she had not told any of her team what she was planning. 

Sam had been seeing them with new eyes since her chat with Daniel; not just the men on her own team, but others at the SGC as well.  Now she could see that all of them seemed a little distant and less sociable than before she had broken up with Pete Shanahan.  It had taken some time, but Sam came to realize just how grave an error in judgment she had made with that decision.  She had turned her back on a man who truly loved her, in the process giving up any hope of home and family, to pursue a dream she could never really achieve. 

She had lost her honor and the respect of those around her, and she had inadvertently become the military’s poster girl of fraternization, unwittingly helping to end the career of the man she most loved and respected; a man who had had a great deal to offer the SGC, now gone partly because she’d refused to put out the torch she carried for him.  Jack hadn’t exactly been innocent, either, but he’d been better at observing the rules and regulations where she’d been concerned.   He’d still fallen victim to them, and to his own sense of loyalty.  

He should have reprimanded her after the Replicator incident; maybe even filed charges.  She’d screwed up badly, and he’d covered for her, telling her it wasn’t her fault, when all the while, it had been hers entirely.  She had put the entire galaxy at the mercy of the Replicators, and the Ancient machine on Dakara had been their saving grace.  She had helped to figure out how to activate it, so things had come out right in the end, but that didn’t really negate the fact that she had given access to secret technology to the enemy, simply because the enemy had looked like her and preyed upon her sympathies.  Had she been objective, had she been truly worthy of command, she wouldn’t have made such a dangerous mistake. 

She had even cost Daniel his life – again – murdered by the hand of her Replicator double she had allowed to escape.  How Daniel could even still look at her and call her his friend was a miracle.  

That screw-up wasn’t her first, either.  Looking back at her record objectively, she had begun to realize that she had no talent for command, and those who had commanded her had been far too gentle and forgiving of her mistakes.  She was convinced she needed to be sequestered in a lab, where she could do the least harm and the most good for her country and her world.  

Now, she was stuck with a future in a military that had built a glass ceiling over her head, sure she would never advance from her current rank.  She was surrounded by people who kept her at arm’s length, questioned her loyalties and withheld their friendship, with no hope of love on the horizon.  She’d held a peacock in her arms and turned it loose for a cold turkey dinner.  _So much for the old adage of the bird in the hand_ , she thought miserably.  If she’d been able to turn back time, she’d have stayed with Pete and found some sort of contentment, but that was not to be.  

Presently a trio of people came into the hut.  They greeted the alien whose home it was, and the Yaddap introduced them to Sam.  “Colonel Carter, may I present Toska, Zameck and Siffo of the Tok’ra.  My friends, this is Colonel Samantha Carter of the Tau’ri.” 

“Because of your late father, Jacob, and his symbiote, Selmak, we have heard of you, Colonel,” said the one called Siffo.  He looked younger than Sam, though one could never tell with Tok’ra.  The other two were elders, near the same apparent age of her father, and between them they carried a small metal container. 

“We are grateful for your offer,” Siffo told her, with a slight bow of respect.  “Though we are not certain why one of your stature among the Tau’ri would choose this path.” 

She stood up, unbuckling the strap from her P-90 and laying it aside on the rough stone table.  Looking down at herself, she began to unfasten the vest that acted as both protection and container for her field gear. 

“Relations between the Tok’ra and the Tau’ri are shaky at best,” she replied evenly, laying the vest aside.  “We need to learn to trust each other, if we’re ever going to make any headway in renewing our alliance.  The only way I can see that happening is if there are more of my people serving as hosts, so you can get to know us better.” She took off her green BDU jacket and laid it aside, too.  “That’s why I’m volunteering.  I can offer you a great deal as a host, and I’m ready to do it on your terms.  If that means leaving Earth behind, so be it.” 

Siffo cocked his head and studied her.  “Do you not wish to know something of the personality of the symbiote you will carry?” 

She shrugged.  “I didn’t exactly have a choice with Jolinar,” she reminded him, “and I doubt you’re giving your friend in the tank much of an option, either.”  She sighed.  “We’ll just have to learn to get along.”  She suppressed a shudder, a shiver of fear and anticipation running down her spine.  “And we will.  In time.” 

Siffo inclined his head in agreement and signaled his companions before turning back to her.  The two Tok’ra men set the metal tank on the table, and one of them lifted the lid. 

“Are you ready?” asked Siffo. 

Sam sat down again in the chair and nodded.  Her decision made long ago, she kept her mind blank, allowing no doubts to creep into her mind.  This would be best for everyone, except possibly herself, but perhaps it might help to make amends for the mess she had made of her life on Earth.  In time, at least, perhaps her sacrifice might in some way regain a little of the honor she had lost in the eyes of those she held most dear. 

“I’m ready,” she announced.  She opened her mouth and closed her eyes as Siffo reached inside the tank with one hand.  The last thought she had was _, Forgive me, Jack, Daniel and Teal’c_.

* * *

Lieutenant Grogan and Major Griff strolled at the outskirts of the village, keeping watch over Doctor Balinsky as he studied the carvings on the Yaddap temple.  Griff frowned as he checked the time on his chronometer and then turned his gaze toward the central path into the village.  He didn’t like this; didn’t like it at all.  “What the hell is Colonel Carter up to?” he mused aloud.  “We’re three hours overdue.”  He stood with his hands on his hips, and added under his breath, “General Hammond’s gonna have her ass for this.” 

“Should I go to the 'gate to report in?” asked Grogan uncertainly. 

“Just give her time,” Balinsky called without looking up from his notebook.  “Sam knows what she’s doing, even if none of the rest of us are privy to the same intel.   Three Tok’ra came through the gate a little while ago.   That might be something to do with her late father, you know.” 

Griff’s frown vanished as he saw Carter emerge from one of the huts with the Tok’ra visitors.  For a split second, he felt relief to see her again, but once it registered that she was carrying her gear rather than wearing it, alarm bells went off inside him.  Then he saw that the Tok’ra were empty-handed, no longer carrying the metal container they’d brought into the village with them. 

The Colonel held her head high, her eyes cool and dispassionate, and when she stopped a few paces away from him, they glowed a brilliant white, just for an instant. 

“What the hell…?!” he breathed. 

She pushed her gear and weapons at him.  “My name is Hahnzen,” she told him in that bizarre, multi-tonal voice that wasn’t human.  ”Colonel Carter has volunteered to be my host.” 

Speechless for several moments, his mouth gaping like a fish out of water, Griff finally managed, “General Hammond’s not gonna be happy about this.”  He felt betrayed, shocked to the core. 

Doctor Balinsky had whirled around at the sound of the alien voice, eyes wide, mouth forming a perfectly round ‘O’.  “Sam, have you lost your mind?” he blurted. 

Her head dipped for a moment as the symbiote gave way to the host.  “No, Cam,” she answered, her voice her own.  “I knew exactly what I was doing.”  She pulled a pair of sealed envelopes from a pocket in the leg of her pants and gave them to him.  “I’ve outlined what I hope to accomplish for all of us in the letter to General Hammond.  The other is a power of attorney for my brother to dispense with my property, because I don’t plan to come back to Earth.  I’m a Tok’ra now and will accompany these gentlemen when they leave.” 

She reached out and shook the archaeologist’s hand.  “I’m sorry, Cam.”  She turned to the others on her team, her face etched with sadness.  “This is for the best, for all of us.  You guys are a great team, and I know you’ll have a top-notch replacement assigned to take my place.  Hammond has already been looking at some good candidates. Nothing but the best for SG-1.” 

Major Griff couldn’t fathom why she’d made her choice to become Tok’ra.  It felt like desertion, because he doubted she had cleared this in advance with the General.  It would probably result in a court martial _in abstentia_ , though if she never returned to Earth, a conviction would be moot.  She was simply cutting her ties and throwing in with another team. 

 _Par for the course,_ he thought.  

They all watched her leave with her three companions, and then Major Griff led his team back to the Stargate and home, pissed off that he had to be the bearer of bad news. 

* * *

 

 ** _Two Months Later_**

With a sigh, Daniel finished arranging his books in the newly-installed shelves.  This was a much smaller office than the one he’d had for most of the last eight years, but it would have to do.  The rest of his volumes would go to the research library, where he could still find them when needed.  In the meantime, he had his most precious artifacts on display, his journals in the bookshelf directly behind his desk, and his ‘IN’ box held a tall stack of papers, waiting for his attention. 

He looked at the brand new nameplate on his desk, and the matching one on both doors.  Wandering over to the single window in the room, he gazed out through the glass inscribed with a star chart overlooking the spacious conference room.  It was hard to believe this office was now really his, along with all the responsibility that went along with residence on the 27th floor. 

“It’s about time,” called a familiar voice from the doorway to his right. 

Daniel turned, already smiling at Jack in welcome.  He took note of the longer-than-regulation silver hair, the neatly trimmed beard, and both ears pierced with little silver stars.  Jack might be retired, but he still proudly wore his brigadier insignia. 

Hurrying toward him, Daniel reached out to shake his hand and was pulled into a quick, fierce hug. 

“Jack, it’s good to see you,” Daniel told him honestly.  He gestured his old friend into the guest chair and took his seat behind the desk for the first time.  For a moment, he just sat perfectly still, thinking about where he was. 

As if reading his mind, Jack observed, “Seeing you back there is just great, Daniel.  It’s where you belong.  They should’ve picked you instead of Weir in the first place.  She may have been the right choice for Atlantis, but nobody knows the Stargate like you do, scientific wormhole theory aside.  You’ve always known what it was meant to be, from the viewpoint of those who built it.  And with you in the driver’s seat, we’ll finally be using it right.  Congratulations.”  He paused and smiled.  “ _Doctor_ Jackson.” 

Daniel felt himself blushing, remembering that exact salutation of respect, hard-won as it had been, from Jack’s goodbye to him on Abydos the first time.  He understood what it meant, and felt the warm friendship flowing so easily between them.  “Thank you, Jack.  General Hammond was satisfied after the way I led SG-11 that I could do the job.  That’s why he gave me the team, you know.  It was my trial by fire, and I do have a lot of ideas.  Things I want to change.  I’m inclined to go totally academic—“ 

He glanced up to see Jack’s eyes widen in shock, which was exactly what he’d expected.  He didn’t pause to enjoy it, just kept talking as if he hadn’t seen it, hoping to beat Jack’s verbal protest, which would be coming next.  “—so to make sure I don’t completely screw things up, I‘m going to need a special military advisor.  One whose opinion I trust, who knows how to rein me in when I need it, but who will let me have my way when he knows I’m right.” 

Jack sat back in his chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, hands loosely clasped over his belly.  His eyebrows lifted.  “Oh?” he asked coyly.  “I might know somebody.  Not sure he’s available, though.  Do you still have a way to get in touch with Teal’c?” 

Daniel just grinned back at him.  “I was talking about _you_ , General O’Neill,” he returned playfully, “and yes, we do hear from him now and then.  He’s the top guy on the Jaffa council, representative for Chulak.  He’s doing well.” 

Jack’s expression brightened into a beaming smile, then slowly darkened.  “Did you tell him about Sam?” 

Nodding, Daniel dropped his gaze to his desk.  “He wasn’t surprised.  He did wish her well, though.”  He looked back at his former CO, studying his eyes, his body language.  “I think I may have pushed her into that decision.  I told her everything.  I thought she deserved to know.” 

Jack sighed.  “Figured that.  It’s not your fault, though.  She made her own choices.  Maybe this’ll be better for her, in the end.” 

Guilt gnawed at Daniel.  If he hadn’t said anything, maybe she’d still be there.  Maybe she and Jack might have come to some sort of agreement about things.  They might have found happiness at some point, if he’d kept quiet. 

Again, as if he could hear Daniel’s thoughts, Jack shook his head and said, “I should’ve told her myself, so don’t shoulder the blame here.  It just wouldn’t have worked out with Carter and me.  My heart was always somewhere else, anyway.”  He smiled, his eyes twinkling with quiet joy.  “I’ve been seeing Sara again, Daniel.  We’re working things out, and it looks like we might be getting back together.” 

For a moment, Daniel could hardly breathe.  Visions of Abydos and the self-destructive man he’d known then scrolled through Daniel’s mind at warp speed.  He’d only met Sara once, toward the end of that freaky event with the crystal entity that had taken on Jack’s appearance and then Charlie’s, but even that brief exposure was enough to tell Daniel that Jack was still very much in love with her, and she with him. 

“That’s wonderful,” Daniel assured him.  “Maybe you could bring her to the base, so you can finally explain to her what happened all those years ago.” 

Jack cocked his head.  “You’d do that for me?” 

“For both of you,” Daniel said firmly.  “I intend to make a lot of changes around here, now that I’m running the show.”  He rubbed his hands together and grinned at his old friend across his desk. 

Both of Jack’s hands came up in the air, palm out.  “Whoa, there, big fella!” he cautioned.  “I think we oughta talk about all that first.” 

A half smile slipped out.  “So does that mean you’re taking the job?” 

“Hell, I have to, or you’ll have the ‘gate moved up to the parking lot and start selling interstellar travel packages, or some other damn fool nonsense,” Jack teased, a smile lifting up one side of his mouth.  “When do I start? I’ve gotta head you off at the pass.” 

Daniel just smiled.  “How about right now?  I’ve got the paperwork for you all pre-approved.”  He got up and walked Jack upstairs to Personnel, getting him re-registered as Daniel’s number one civilian advisor, his right hand man, his go-to guy.  As they sat down together in his office an hour later, Daniel gazed across the desk at him and smiled. 

“What?” 

“This is sort of the way we started out, isn’t it?” Daniel’s voice was quiet, filled with wonder and pleasure.  “Just you and me, trying to figure out where we are, and where the hell we’re going.” 

“Well, I hope you have better luck in that chair than I did,” Jack shot back.  “Just don’t date anybody associated with the program, okay?” 

Daniel cleared his throat.  “Actually, there’s a woman at my favorite bookstore that I’ve been thinking of asking out.” 

Jack grinned and nodded.  “That’s good, Daniel.  You need somebody to come home to, and now that you’ll be home every night, maybe you can actually get a life.” 

“That’d be nice,” Daniel agreed. 

“So is this, buddy,” Jack said, pulling his chair closer to the desk.  “Let’s get busy.  We’ve got a program to run here, and the paperwork’s already piling up around you.  We’ll have to call for reinforcements soon, unless we get to it.” 

Daniel pulled his chair up under the desk and bent his head over the stack of folders, his mind firmly set on the job, but part of his heart was still among the stars, with those he had loved and lost. 

He hoped he’d see Sam and Teal’c again someday, especially if it were a day of peace and celebration.  He meant to work toward that.  He also hoped his friends managed to find peace, wherever they were, way out there in the galaxy, or right here at home. 

FIN


End file.
